


Migraine

by arsenicarose



Series: Dr. Spencer Reid: Drabbles, Fluff, Short Fics, and More [4]
Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Head Massage, M/M, Reader-Insert, gender neutral reader, migraines, mild cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 16:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11294769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicarose/pseuds/arsenicarose
Summary: Spencer is clearly having a migraine. You know what it looks like, so you offer to help.Stand alone fanfic in a series of stand alone fanfics.Please feel free to make requests in the comments. :)





	Migraine

Spencer presses his palms into his eyes. He is trying to be subtle, but you can tell what he is doing. He is rubbing his eyes with such force that you worry about him.

You walk over to his desk and sit on the edge. “Hey, Spence, are you alright?”

He presses his palms in one last time and reluctantly pulls them away. He is squinting at you; the light seems to be too much for him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He is so clearly lying. You narrow your eyes. “Really, because it looks like you are having a migraine.”

He knows he has been caught, so he says, “No, no, I’m fine really. Probably just a caffeine headache. But I drank some coffee a little bit ago. It will fix the problem in a few minutes.” He gestures to the empty coffee cup in front of him.

You purse your lips, not sure if he is being honest with you. “My mom used to get migraines. I know something that might help. If it doesn’t get rid of the migraine, it will at least distract you.”

“I told you, Y/N. I just need to wait for the caffeine.”

“Alright, but if you want my help, all you need to do is ask. I’m here for you.” You squeeze his hand lightly.

He forces a smile, and you realize his headache must be really bad. You won’t force him to do anything though, so you stand and walk back to your desk.

You check in on him throughout the rest of the day, and the caffeine doesn’t seem to help. You repeatedly see him rubbing his eyes, closing them, wincing in pain. He isn’t animated or passionate. The rest of the team had noticed the lack of passion, but he is relatively good at hiding the signs of the migraine. You know what it looks like, however.

After everyone else has left, you and Spencer are still working. Rather, you are working and Spencer is trying to work. The team each checks in on him as they leave, and he brushes them off. He didn’t get enough sleep, he says. He’s fine.

When you are alone, you see him glance over at you every once and awhile. You don’t say anything, afraid to push. Spencer is the kind of person who takes care of himself. It will be hard for him to admit he needs help.

An hour after everyone else is gone, he finally walks over to your desk. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, Spence?”

“If I were to be having migraines, and I am not saying that I am, but if I were, what would you recommend?”

You think for a moment. Your treatment for your mom was not a medicine that she could take. It was just comfort, trying to alleviate the hyperfixation on the pain. “Um, well, with my mom, I would give her a head massage and sing to her. It helped her relax, sometimes even fall asleep. I don’t know if the pain stopped, but it seemed to help.”

You look up, and Spencer is wearing sunglasses now. He might not want to admit it, but it definitely seems like a migraine to you.

“I know that might be weird,” you continue, “so you can ask someone else to do it, if you would like.”

“I don’t really have anyone to ask… Would… Would you be willing to do it for me? I just… I can’t think, Y/N. The caffeine isn’t helping.”

“Of course, Spence. I didn’t want to pressure you, but I was offering. Do you want me to do it now?”

“Yes, please.” He seems reluctant. You wonder if you are the first person who knows.

You set your work on your desk and take his hand. He jumps a little, but holds it.

“Follow me, Spence.”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere dark.”

You lead him to JJ’s old office. It is filled with casefiles now, and you clear off the couch. He takes his sunglasses off, clearly happy to be in a dim room. When the couch is clear, you close the blinds, draping the room in almost complete darkness.

You sit on the couch. “Alright, Spence. Lie down and put your head in my lap.”

He hesitates.

“Or you can sit in front of me, but it is better if you lie down.”

He nods, and crosses the room. He sits next to you, gingerly laying his head in your lap. His legs dangle off the edge of the couch, but he doesn’t complain.

“Alright, Spence. If you want me to stop at any point, or if you feel like it isn’t working, please tell me, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Y/N”

“Of course, Spence.” You smile at him, and he closes his eyes.

You gently lay a hand on his forehead. His face twitches, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Is this alright?”

“Yes, sorry.”

You lay your other hand on his head, and this time he doesn’t flinch. You start to run your fingers through his curly hair. He relaxes a little almost immediately, so you continue. You add pressure, and trace designs onto his scalp. After a few minutes, you start to sing “The Girl and The Birch,” a favorite of your moms. It is in Russian, and is very similar to a lullaby.

Your thumbs rub across his temples and back into his scalp. You didn’t realize how tightly he had scrunched up his face until he starts to relax it completely. When you finish singing the lullaby, you start it again, lower and softer. You let your deft fingers become gentle again, barely brushing his scalp.

After about five minutes of this, he starts to snore softly. You continue your ministrations for a little longer, hoping he can get into a deep sleep before a migraine resurfaces. Then, you simply pet his head, until you fall asleep as well.

You rouse sometime later, Spencer stirring on your lap. He wakes with a start, confused by his surroundings at first. When he makes eye contact with you, he calms, and lays his head back in your lap.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better, Y/N. Thank you. I haven’t slept that well in ages.”

“I was happy to help, but you should see someone. Head massages aren’t a permanent fix.”

“No, but they are a quite pleasant one.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Can… Can you do it again?”

“Do you have a migraine?”

“No… I just- It felt really nice. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I will do it again, Spence. I would be happy to keep doing it for you, if you like. All you have to do is ask.”


End file.
